


Usque ad Sidera

by Noah_Jabberwock



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Admiral! Hanzo Shimada, Alternate Universe - Space, Canon-Typical Violence, Criminal! Jesse McCree, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks, Hanzo hasn't killed Genji, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Fiction, Spaceships, intergalactic journey, space army, space government
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-12-07 13:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18235463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noah_Jabberwock/pseuds/Noah_Jabberwock
Summary: Jesse McCree, former Admiral of the Orbital Navy, is wanted by the Sidereal Confederation for many reasons, mostly for the attempted assassination of the Head of the Confederation, Sojiro Shimada, seven years ago.Now Sojiro is dead, killed by someone and the evidence leads to Jesse; his bounty is doubled and every single soldier of the Orbital Navy wants Jesse's death, in particular Hanzo, Admiral of the Orbital Navy and Jesse's ex-husband.McCree has suspicion on who wants to frame him and he's ready to face the entire universe for the sake of the truth and Hanzo's last look of love for him."Okay, one last time""Genji, please, this is becoming ridiculous…" Jesse was exasperated."You are ridiculous, Jesse! You want to reform a disbanded and illegal task force to fight against the entire Orbital Navy! And you want me to be part of it, am I right?""Well, if you speak with that tone, everything seems ridiculous."---English is not my first language.





	1. The law of the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all!  
> This is going to be a real challenge for me and I will need a lot of support.  
> I think you've noticed that English is not my mother tongue and I don't have a beta reader in this moment so there will be many mistakes. If somebody wants to help me, I will be very grateful.  
> The title is a latin phrase and it means "Till the stars" (It comes from the juridical language).  
> This is my first long story in English, tell me what you think about. I hope you like it.  
> Noah.

 

 

 

"Alicante, you have become target of the war ship Reliant 1704 _Selenia_ of the Orbital Navy. Surrender immediately or we are going to open fire".

"Oh, Hanzo, it’s always a pleasure to hear your voice, even when you threaten to kill me." Jesse responded ironically, leaning to the helm of the Alicante and glancing to the values in the control room of the ship: the cannon could shoot in any moment; the thrusters for the jump to hyperspace, instead, would have taken one minute and half to be totally charged. Jesse should gain time…

"Alicante, you have 30 seconds for surrendering, then we commence firing".

A lot of time.

"Oh, speakin’ about that, Han, I think it’s not a big problem if I surrender in … mmh, let’s see..." Jesse looked at the countdown for the charge of the thrusters "one minute. Deal?" he joked, sitting on the armchair in the cockpit, fastening the belt and searching for his cigarillos.

"Fifteen seconds..." Hanzo’s voice was cold and detached. Jesse sighed: there has been a time when Jesse’s impudence would have made Hanzo grinning. Several years were passed since that time.

"Hey, darlin’, since I’m goin’ to die, why don’t we do a video call? At least, you will be the last thing that I’m goin’ to see. I’m pretty sure the Orbital Navy uniform still looks great on your pecs...". Jesse could hear _the_ _m_. He heard the low but widespread laughs of the crew on the Selenia mocking its captain for Jesse’s comment. And the captain of the Alicante hadn’t finished yet.

"Actually, while you’re at it, you could turn around, so I can take a look at how those pants suit oh so well on you..." Jesse continued, grinning and imagining again that tender fabric wrapped around that firm ass that he had stroked so many times in hot and lustful nights.

The laughs suddenly subsided and Jesse had no doubts that Hanzo had glanced at his crew; a glance that could reduce someone to ashes. The captain of Alicante felt his own heart almost stopping, thinking about how many particulars of Hanzo he still remembered, even though he hadn’t met him in seven years.

Seven years before, when Hanzo didn’t hate him, when still he did love him.

Jesse shrugged his head. Still thirty seconds to the full charge of the thrusters.

"Minerva, set a route for the jump to hyperspace" he ordered to the AI, reopening the communication when Hanzo threatened him that he would fire in five seconds.

"Hanzo, I am willing to give back the gamma rays cannon I’ve stolen from the Reliant 1702 _Helios_. Don’t fire, or you’ll risk to destroy it." Jesse settled, clenching his fist and than stretching the fingers.

The silence seemed lasting a lifetime.

" _Liar._ " Hanzo’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, so low that Jesse thought he was the only one who heard it, that no one of the crew on the Selenia had heard it. A personal accuses, a fist in Jesse’s stomach and pride. He forced himself to swallow the bitter and hard knot he felt in his throat and he sneered.

"You’re right, Hanzo. Anyway, my thrusters for the jump to hyperspace are ready. See you soon, sweetheart." he said goodbye, activating all the devices and ignored Hanzo who roared to his men to open the fire.

Air run away from Jesse’s lungs when the jump transported him at the speed of light in the same moment he saw the light-blue glow of the gamma rays cannon of the Selenia.

When he was able to breath again, he took some moment to look around and set in the dark of the outer space, in the cosmic void far from war ships with gamma rays cannons and former lovers who wanted him dead.

He was suddenly cold: the big amount of energy used by the thrusters was taken from any generator which supply  all the devices considered minor and this was valid even for the heating system.

“ _You are 80,543 spacial k_ _ilo_ _m_ _etres_ _from the start point of the jump,_ _admiral_ _McCree._ ” the AI informed Jesse from nowhere, switching on all the lights of the ship that turned off during the shift.

"Thank you for the information, Minerva" Jesse replied, barely refraining from shivering. He went to his own cabin, collecting a red serape from the floor and wrapping it around his shoulders. Back in the control room totally illuminated, he stopped in front of the interstellar map of location, typing on the screen trying to understand where he was. Finding his position, he talked to AI: "Minerva, set up new coordinates, from here to the planet Tibethia and as soon as the energy is re-established, raise the deflector shields and start the anti interception technology".

“ _It will be done,_ _Admiral_ _McCree”_.

Jesse ignored the appellation for the umpteenth time. He hadn’t been able to modify the AI. Many times he had corrected that voice without body, asking her to leave out the honorific title that no one dared giving to him in the Sidereal Confederation anymore. It didn’t work: the AI kept calling him “Admiral”. Jesse couldn’t blame her: Jesse himself had copied her from the central system of the Orbital Navy, Athena.

“ _From the current position, it will take 360 hours to reach the planet Tibethia, Admiral McCree”._

Jesse cocked his head, considering the information. "Well, less than I thought...".

“ _I had guessed what was your destination after the encounter with the Admiral Shimada, so I have set as direction of the jump to hyperspace the one of Tibethia”._

Jesse lifted the corner of his mouth, grinning: "You are the best, sugar. Set the new route and then go offline. I think I’ll go to cryostasis for a bit. Wake me up in 336 hours, Minerva." he ordered, heading to the capsule of temporary hibernation.

“ _It will be done,_ _Admiral_ _McCree”_.

Jesse ignored again the honorific title.

 

\---

 

_Six days later_

 

Hanzo opened wide his eyes, sitting in his bed. The cold sweat dripped along his bare back and the sheets fell in his lap. The heavy breath went in and out his lungs too quickly, his heart beat too strongly, as if it wanted to run away from his chest.

It hasn’t been a nightmare.

It has been a whisper, so real. It has twisted in his nocturnal messy thoughts, ruining his sleep.

"What?" he asked loud and angry, bringing his hand to the chest for tightening two dog tags that hung from his neck. His breath regularized, his anxiety seemed vanishing as soon as he felt the platinum in his fingers. The train of his thoughts got the right rail again. He swallowed, closing his eyes and asking the question calmly.

"What’s happened?". His familiars, the dragons of the House Shimada, curled under the skin. His tattoo burnt as a flame, before subsiding. The sinuous voice spoke again.

_He has been killed._

Hanzo kept his breath: he had understood rightly since the beginning. He breathed again, asking the question that more wanted to ask and yet less wanted to know the answer.

"Who?".

A name.

Hanzo skipped a bit; unconsciously, he rubbed the thumb on the name carved on the second dog tag, next to the one with his own information.

_Jesse A. McCree_.

Never, before that moment, he felt that dog tag so heavy.

 

\---

 

_"Ouch! Be careful!" Jesse complained, turning his head for seeing over his shoulder, eyeing annoyed the man behind him. Hanzo returned the gaze, tucking the needle again in Jesse’s flesh, when he less expected it. Hanzo ignored even the new lament of pain and kept stitching the big cut behind Jesse’s shoulder. In the silence, it seemed you could hear the thoughts of both, a loud thinking that kept the two men occupied and stopped them from saying inadequate words._

_Hanzo broke the silence. "If you were more careful, I wouldn’t be here sewing together your pieces…" he said severe while put down the needle and took the cream, spreading it on the wound._

_Jesse smiled, turning again the head for looking at the frowned expression of his beloved. Hanzo’s face was illuminated by the faint light of the stars that came from the hatchback. The storage area where they were holed up was cozy and warm enough for letting them to focus just on the other and on their own thoughts._

_"Is it concern that tone in your voice, Shimada?" Jesse asked, almost amused. The faint massage of Hanzo’s fingers on his wound ceased immediately. Jesse felt Hanzo stiffening._

_"Yes, Jesse, it is. Is it so strange being worried for the person that I love?". Jesse kept quiet, not daring to say how much those words warmed up his heart._

_Hanzo’s voice became lower. "I will be always willing to treat all your wounds after what you’ve done for me..." he said and, even if Jesse couldn’t see him, he was sure that Hanzo’s gaze was fallen on his own prosthetical legs "...but it’s not so sure I will be always there for you"._

_Jesse breathed. "When you will not be there for me, it means you’ll be dead and so I’ll die too, because I’m not willin’ to live in a Verse where you’re not there to love me..."._

_Hanzo snorted amused, shaking his head. "Since when you became so silly, Jesse McCree?"._

_This time was Jesse snorting amused. "I’ve just said the truth: I would be no one without you..."._

_Hanzo laid down the cream, taking the bandages and talking with faking carelessness: "You would be Admiral of one of the four Reliant ships, one of the most important office of the Orbital Navy and of the Sidereal Confederation..."._

_Jesse chuckled, feeling the now sweet touch of Hanzo applying the bandages. "I’m not Admiral of a Reliant … yet"._

_"At this time, tomorrow, you will be, so try to survive till then." Hanzo replied, finishing the dressing._

_Jesse turned with a smile. "I’ll try hard. Even because, after the assignment, I’m going to make to know to the Head of the Confederation that I want to take his firstborn as my partner for life"._

_Hanzo opened wide his eyes and chuckled low, approaching to Jesse for placing a hand on his bare chest. "It will be an unexpected blow for him..."._

_Jesse laid his hand on Hanzo’s, smiling sure. "But he will not object. After all, your father adores me and, anyway, there’s Genji who will give an heir to Shimada family…"._

_"No doubts for that..." Hanzo murmured, seeking – and finding – Jesse’s lips._

 

 

“ _Admiral McCree, we are reaching the orbit of planet Tibethia”._

"You know how to wake a man kindly, don’t ya, Minerva?" Jesse asked ironically, coming out from the cryostasis capsule, rubbing his face for erasing the last traces of that sweet memory.

 

\---

 

Tibethia was a planet at the margins of the Sidereal Confederation, far away from the stars. A perpetual darkness incorporated the skies and the temperature on the barren lands was steadily around -226°. Nobody dared to live on the surface of planet Tibethia.

"Starship 194220 Alicante, I ask the permission for landing." Jesse telegraphed, not taking care about hiding the real identity of the ship. No authority of the Orbital Navy dared to place a base on a planet that didn’t give any usefulness. For that reason, the underground of Tibethia had become the perfect den for criminals, wanderer, fugitives, for those who wanted to hide from the attention of the Confederation and even for hermits who wanted to escape from the noise of too many people.

On the ground, in the black sand, a horizontal gash threw open for several dozens of metres. Two mammoth strips of land lifted for showing the hangar below, where dozens of men ran everywhere for allowing him to land. Jesse had already announced his arrival in that city without rules, but not without information or news. Hardly someone in the 1060 planets of the Sidereal Confederation didn’t know Jesse McCree, the Gunslinger. The man of the attack to the Summits of the Confederation, to Shimada’s power. At least, this was how the people told that story.

Once reached the floor of the hangar, he turned off the engines.

"Minerva, keep watch the Alicante and keep track every value".

“ _It will be done, Admiral McCree”._

He could also search some new improvement for his ship in the time he was on that planet. But before, he was there to meet a person…

He went towards the hatch in the back of the ship. It opened automatically, revealing the smokey and artificial lights of the landing hangar.

A little, silver thing darted towards him when he had just the time to take the first step outside the stairs of the hatch.

And the only reason because that little metal blade hadn’t pierced Jesse’s forehead was because McCree himself had diverted it with a bullet. The smoke raised from the barrel, but it didn’t had the time to dissolve that Jesse had to shot other two bullets for avoiding those flying blades made an attempt to his throat.

All the men in the enormous hangar raised their weapons towards Jesse, menacing him.

It wasn’t something new someone tried to kill the Gunslinger, even when he was just landed on a planet. But not on Tibethia, his safe harbor where, even though he wasn’t really welcomed, he was at least accepted. Mostly from the same person that at the moment was there to cut McCree's throat.

Without letting his guard down, Jesse observed the silver shuriken on the ground of the hangar. Just one person on that planet was so skilled with those weapons to use them with a mortal precision.

"What the fuck, Genji! We don’t meet since five months and you welcome me in this way?! Can you tell me what...".

A graceful shadow appeared before Jesse, who was able to sidestep before a thin blade tore his flesh. The katana reached the floor left free from the hatch just closed.

"Genji..." Jesse repeated, but his voice was surpassed by a demoniac growl.

"How dare you to show here your face, McCree!". Genji’s eyes were red for the hate.

"What are you-" Jesse didn’t finish that Genji tried to assault him again. Jesse dodged again and, before Genji realized, McCree grounded him with the skill worthy of an admiral, placing the gun on his front. Jesse felt like trash to put the gun to the head of his only, real ally in that universe.

"Don’t push me to do it, Genji...".

"What’s up, Gunslinger, do you want to exterminate the last two too? Will you kill Hanzo later? Did you want to conclude what you started seven years ago?". A rage like that wasn’t anything that suited for someone like Genji. It deformed the features of his face and his voice.

"Can I know what the fuck you are talkin’ about, Genji? Why should I kill Hanzo?" Jesse asked, on the edge of the fury.

Genji hissed. "Why did you kill my father now? What have you gained in killing the Head of the Confederation in this moment?".

Jesse blinked, surprised. For a moment, he forgot where he was – in a hangar of an outlaw planet, surrounded by people who didn’t understand as much as him. For some seconds, he wasn’t able to connect the words to their meaning, so ridiculous, so unreal. False.

Jesse frowned for the incomprehension while Genji’s eyes burnt with the rage. Jesse did not see that gaze, anyway.

"What would I have done..?".

 

 

 


	2. Accusation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Here we go again! I hope you will like this chapter. As always, English is not my mother tongue, so there will be many mistakes. Tell me and I will correct them. Thanky to all the people who left kudos or comments!  
> NJ

 

 

Sojiro Shimada was a righteous man. His foresight had permitted him to control the Sidereal Confederation, a union of one thousand and more planets. His ability both in diplomacy and war had allowed him to rise the power of the planet Gibraltar above all the others. The crowd had supported him, his opponents had envied him and his enemies had tried to kill him, but Sojiro Shimada enjoyed the loyalty of his Army that was willing to give his life for the Head of the Confederation.

That hadn’t been enough.

Sojiro Shimada was dead and his cold body laid on a soft bed of cushions and flowers. Hanzo stood before his father corpse, daring to put a hand on the glacial and still fingers. Sojiro’s left eye was closed; the right one instead was wide and glassy, the horrendous old scar was dry and puckered. But the worst mark on the body was in the middle of his forehead: the bullet wound stood out, gruesome and disgusting and yet clean. Just a gun (and a gunslinger) in the Confederation was able to make a hole like that. The same who had made the wound on Sojiro’s right eye, seven years before.

Keeping from crying, Hanzo kissed the skinny cheeks of his father, stroking his hand.

The news of death of the Head of the Confederation hadn’t been given yet to the population. The elders had to; Gibraltar had to.

Hanzo heard the low voices of the Council of the Elders behind him. The men and the women began to speak, every voice mixed with the other forming an incoherent chatting at Hanzo’s back.

A voice rose above the others. “We should elect a new Family for the succession on the Throne of the Confederation.” The Elder Kurosaki spoke.

Hanzo froze, turning toward the Council. His eyes lighted up with the fire of rage and with blue sparkles. He felt his left arm burning, his Familiars ready to consume the enemies.

“My father’s body is still warm and you” he pointed an accusatory finger to the most illustrious of the Elders “You talk about election and not about the justice he deserves.” Every word was a spit of poison. Hanzo was full of disgust. Disgust and anger.

Kurosaki was unimpressed, as much as the other Elders. “Our first worry is the balance of the Sidereal Confederation. Can you not understand what is going to happen if we announce the assassination of the Head and don’t name a successor? There will be only chaos.”

Hanzo gritted his teeth. “You don’t need to find a new family. He was my father, I am the successor. Tell this the Confederation: I am the Head now!”

“No, you are not.” said the Elder Shimatsuri, taking a step forward and standing beside Kurosaki.

Hanzo frowned, staring at her in disbelief. “What?”

“Just a person who is bond in holy matrimony is worthy to sit on the Throne of the Confederation.”

Hanzo snapped, the fire in his eyes ignited every cell of his body as he took a step forward, facing full of pride the Elders.

“I am married! I am married to...”

“Jesse Alexander McCree, the man who did that” Shimatsuri said, her voice cold as the void as she pointed at Sojiro Shimada’s corpse. “And, by the way, as long as your relationship couldn’t provide an heir, your bond was useless...” she explained, retiring the finger and staring severe at the no more heir, Hanzo.

He stiffened, gritting his teeth. “And tell me, how can you be so sure that my father has been killed by Jesse McCree? How could McCree have entered, killed my father and then gone out without anyone noticed him?”

The Elders looked at each other and started to chat again, except for Kurosaki who didn’t took the eyes off Hanzo. He was serious as if he was going to execute a sentence.

“He has been the best Admiral who has ever served in the Orbital Navy. Better than anyone.” The old man underlined with his tone that judgment. The Elders stopped talking as Hanzo didn’t answer back to that affront.

Kurosaki continued. “With his ability, it’s not so difficult for him to come here and completing the task he started seven years ago. After all, it seems to be genetic...” Kurosaki literally spat those words.

Hanzo lowered his head, remembering those events as if they had happened the day before. So many things had changed in several years, but one warning was always the same: never trust a McCree.

Hanzo nodded, keeping his pride and his rage. But he knew what he had to do.

He lifted his gaze, glancing at the crystal dome above the throne room: billions of stars shone over his head. Thousands of constellation, millions of galaxies. And lives.

His father ruled for keeping the balance. He clenched the fist.

“I know what you are thinking, Hanzo.” Kurosaki spoke again and the heir of the Shimadas lowered his head just to stare at the Elder. Kurosaki pointed faintly to Hanzo’s hand, which knuckles had become white with the effort.

“Hanzo, I know you since when you were born. And I know that you are thinking about revenge: your expression is unequivocal.”

The Shimada lowered his head, the thoughts spinning in his brain. “Let’s prepare a task force. I want McCree’s head on a plate in a week.”

“No.”

The admiral shut up in disbelief. His eyes went wide and he gaped his mouth, feeling the anger invading his chest and burning in his throat.

“What? You must be joking.”

A blue sparkle arose from Hanzo’s arm, the Shimada’s familiars murmured their rage to the Elders.

Kurosaki didn’t falter, just stood still, not afraid of the Dragons. “We have declared war to three different planets not before than two months ago. We cannot afford to waste units to chase one single murderer. And for catching someone like Jesse McCree, it needs more the two or three simple soldiers and you well know it.” The Elder stated, challenging Hanzo’s anger with his firmness.

Hanzo frowned more. “If you are talking about saving soldiers for the Great Plan of Attack, we still have two months before...”

“That’s not the only matter, Hanzo.” Komaru spoke, hardening his silver gaze. “Although McCree’s actions are more than despicable, our priority now is to end the new war of conquest and choosing the family who is going to lead the Confederation. After all of this, we will begin to chase that human trash.”

Hanzo was ready to speak back when Kurosaki’s steady voice stopped him. “We are sure you comprehend that this bitter decision has been taken after long reflections and discussions. It is the best thing to do. The right thing to do.”

The Shimada couldn’t talk anymore. He just felt a huge weight landing on his chest, the throat dry as the silence. He looked at the Elders as they left one by one.

Kurosaki remained a bit longer, his gaze falling on the ground and his tone was low and full of sympathy.

Pity.

“I’m so sorry for your father, Hanzo. When the time will come, we will do our best to execute that criminal.” He said and then he left.

The Admiral stood still and tired, alone in the throne room with the stars above him and his silent father behind him. He fell on his knees, destroyed, sick, exhausted.

He wanted to scream and cry. He did both, showing to no one the weakness that he wasn’t allowed to externalize, being an Admiral. He covered the face with the hands, ashamed and he let nobody see the tears of sorrow and sadness. Just one person had seen them, long time before: the man whom Hanzo had hold in his arms in nights full of passion, the man whom Hanzo had shared the battlefield with. The same man who had tried to kill Sojiro Shimada seven years before and now got it.

The dogtag on Hanzo’s chest burned as the Dragons roared low words of anger and revenge under Hanzo’s skin. They have never pronounced McCree’s name. They hadn’t dare for years.

Hanzo stayed in the throne room for what it seemed an eternity, with the company of the silence.

He hated himself because he was still letting the sadness and the impotence flowing through him.

With a gulp, he shouted for the shameful show and wiped the tears from his face.

He had to find McCree and open his throat with one of his arrows. He knew how to find out where Jesse was: Hanzo was sure that the familiars still remembered flawlessly the scent, the print of Jesse’s life energy.

Hanzo gritted his teeth, running toward the Navy Hangar in Gibraltar.

He headed to the empty Universe, pushing to the limits the engines of the corvette, not listening to the alarm of unauthorized leaving.

 

\--- 

 

"Jesse is telling the truth, Genji. I’ve just ended of examining the recent activity of the cryostasis capsule. It has been used for almost two weeks." Angela confirmed, walking toward the two men sitting on the edge of the roof of the building.

Genji really didn’t need another proof; he just nodded silently, looking at his lover slightly concerned. “You mustn’t work, you should rest.” he said, not looking away from the woman who dismissed him with a wave of the hand.

“This is nothing I can’t handle, Genji.” She responded sweetly, her eyes bright even in the polluted fog of Tibethia.

Jesse watched Genji standing up and reaching the woman, embracing her in her middle but not hugging too hard.

“So don’t do that for you, do that for me.” He muttered, but he wasn’t angry.

Jesse finally looked away when Genji left a tender kiss on Angela’s lips and then he tilted his head to hers, whispering something to her ear. If Jesse could, he would give them privacy. But he had to speak with Genji at any cost.

The Gunslinger heard again Angela’s keen voice before soft footsteps departed, leaving Jesse and Genji alone. The younger Shimada was still looking at the door where Angela had just disappeared.

"She’s pregnant, ain’t she?" Jesse’s deep voice wasn’t enough to avert Genji from his silent view. Anyway, an answer was unnecessary: Genji’s behavior toward Angela was even tender and more cautious then what Jesse was used to see; the younger Shimada seemed far more concerned with the woman, even more then when she was on the battlefield as Head of the Medical Unit.

"Two months." Genji confirmed, turning and walking toward the friend to take seat again next to him.

Jesse really wanted to congratulate with him, to celebrate with him for the wonderful news and for his incoming fatherhood, but more urgent and tragic business kept him from talking about that.

Neither Genji had the mood to talk with him about the joyful novelty.

"I’m sorry for doubting of you…"

"Don’t worry, pardner. I would have done the same in your shoes, probably." Jesse admitted staring at the huge and swarming city below his feet. He focused again on the friend. "What the hell is happened?".

Genji was quiet for an entire minute, his gaze was lost far away from Tibethia, probably wandering with his mind on the silver surface of Gibraltar where he had lived before his exile.

"Shimada’s Familiars are connected to each others. Not even the Universe can diminish or thin this bond. My Familiar said me my Father was killed with a shot in his head…".

Jesse said nothing, but he could understand: seven years before he had tried to kill Sojiro Shimada in long moments of anger. He had good reasons at the time, but an attempted assassination wasn’t a good business card: he couldn’t blame Genji for having suspicions.

"Your Familiars didn’t see who has been who killed Sojiro…" It was a statement, Jesse didn’t have enough hope to make the sentence as a question.

Genji shook his head. "Our Familiars are made with our souls. They don’t have a body, so they live through ours. What my father’s Familiars had seen, only they knew it. But they are dead with my father."

Jesse nodded. Genji looked at him.

"You know who killed him." Genji stated, his eyes hardening with a hint of rage, tilting toward the Gunslinger.

Jesse raised his hands. "I’m not sure, Genji."

"But you have suspicions!"

The man before Jesse was so different from the person he used to know, but he couldn’t blame him.

Sojiro had been a good father, strict but right. A landmark for Hanzo, Genji and Jesse too. The Shimada brothers loved him and Sojiro has been the one who proposed (with heavy heart) the exile for his second-born when all the Council had voted for the capital execution.

Yeah, the Council.

"The Elders." Jesse just said, his gaze roaming on the yellow lights of the city. His voice has been welcomed by silence. Genji didn’t speak a word, but Jesse could feel his intense stare on the heated skin.

The silence seemed lasting an eternity.

"It’s not possible." Genji stated.

Jesse still didn’t look at him, preferring to take one of his cigars and light it up. The smoke in his lungs was warm and poisonous enough for the night.

The Gunslinger was sure that the friend was still looking at him, with his face deformed by the scars and the disbelief.

"Jesse..."

"Genji, how can you defend those people after what they have done to you?". Jesse was even and he was still looking at Tibethia, his mind so far in that moment.

He wasn’t in the mood for fighting again.

"I deserved their judgment!" The younger Shimada snapped, blaming himself. "My behavior was unacceptable for an Admiral!"

Eventually, the Gunslinger looked at Genji. Jesse remembered: when they were younger, Genji was everything an Admiral mustn’t be. He loved women, bets, alcohol and the Universe knows what other kind of substances. He has changed with his forced exile. He would have become father.

"Your behavior wasn’t anythin’ worthy an execution, Genji." Jesse told to him, his voice tired and low. He breathed again the cigar.

"How can you be so sure it has been the Council? What could they gain from framing somebody who is already wanted?”.

Jesse chewed the cigar he had in his mouth.

Too many questions without answers, too many threats, an angry army on his heels. Everything so suddenly.

"Jes-"

"I dunno, Genji!" The Gunslinger shouted, regretting it immediately. Jesse lowered his head, not looking at his friend. "I need to drink. "

Something strong.

 

 

 

 


	3. Be always loyal to a Shimada

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Here we go again! I hope you like even this chapter and, as always, if you notice mistakes, tell me and I'll correct them!  
> Thank you so much to everyone who left kudos!  
> Noah

 

 

 

_"Keep your back straight, Jesse."_

_The kid held his breathe, trying to appear taller and more upright._

_The man hummed, amused._

_Alexander McCree didn’t need to raise his voice for making the others listen to him: he had enough charisma for facing head-on all the kings in the Universe._

_He had handsome features, a strong-built body, a sharp mind and he could enjoy of the loyalty of the Second Battalion. His Battalion._

_Alexander McCree was one of the best Admirals who served the Orbital Navy, clever in his strategies and ready for the inconveniences._

_And now he had the trust of the Head of the Confederation, who treated him more like a brother than a subject. Indeed, they had shared the battlefield for so many years, both as Admirals._

_Jesse admired his father, dreaming of reaching his level one day. He peeped at the man behind him, so fierce and unattainable for the sight of a kid, even if he was the son._

_Suddenly, the sound of the trumpets called everyone’s attention. Jesse turned his head, seeing the great doors of the throne room in Gibraltar opening slowly and majestically._

_A long procession of servants and soldiers moved from the gates, silent and proud._

_In the middle of the cortege, a person stood up covered in his silver gown and followed by two kids who did their best to seem as great as Sojiro Shimada._

_Jesse held the laughter: Genji was visibly bored while Hanzo stood strutting, trying to seem older then he was._

_The faint light of the stars illuminated the pale faces of all the people allowed to attend at the coronation of the Head of the Sidereal Confederation. The four Admirals and their family were besides the throne, looking at their former colleague while he was kneeling, waiting for the crown._

_Jesse stared at the royalty that the man who had raised again issued. Everyone cheered as the new Head stood before them. He was magnificent, the layers of silver fabric shone beneath the light of the stars and the smiles of those presents. The ceremony was over and the great party was going to start. Even all the wars of conquest around the Confederation had been stopped for the coronation of the new Head._

_Sojiro turned and smiled to Jesse’s father: the new Head’s face was now more relaxed as if he didn’t have a weight on his chest anymore. His eyes, usually cold as the steel, now were warm with joy and flattery. Sojiro’s attention was suddenly caught by a noble who congratulated with him._

_"Don’t forget, Jesse." Alexander said, not looking away from the now crowned figure of Sojiro. "Be always loyal to a Shimada."_

_Jesse stared at his father who was smiling proud. The kid silently nodded, even if he knew the man wasn’t paying attention to him._

_Jesse turned again, looking at that crowd that surrounded Sojiro posing like a painting. There were just two figure out of place: two kids of ten and seven years who were looking back at Jesse. Now that the coronation was over, they could be together again chatting about the boredom of those events and running away from the strict gaze of the adults._

_As Genji and Hanzo approached smiling, Jesse wondered how a person could even only thinking to betray the Shimada family._

 

\- - -

 

_Alexander’s voice was low and agitated. "Don’t worry, Gabe, the line is encrypted, you can talk freely, but please be quick. I don’t know how much time we have…"._

_Jesse stared at his father in disbelief, shaking and not knowing what to say. Or what was going to happened. Everything seemed so unreal and false, like a bad dream. Jesse hoped he could wake up soon._

_But he wouldn’t have waken up. That was the reality, cruel and bitter._

_Someone was going to catch and enclose them in Caina Dungeon. Or worse. And Jesse didn’t know why._

_Alexander kept talking with the husky voice on the comm. "Torbjorn has totally disappeared. And so have Reinhardt and Ana. I don’t find any sign of them and this is the most beautiful thing could happen. If I can’t, neither the Confederation can. Morrison is making a deal for the reduction of his sentence and only the Universe knows how Olivia has been able to appear as innocent. That girl is a demon herself. They won’t have problem." Alexander explained and his voice was neither charismatic or secure as it always has been. It was trembled and worry. Jesse couldn’t recognize it._

_The boy curled on the chair in the Admiral’s cabin on the Reliant 1702 Helios. The ship was unable to set sail, so all the corvettes of the hangar in Gibraltar: the AI Athena had the order to block every attempt of departure._

_They were trapped, both waiting for their doom._

_"Elizabeth and Amélie have been brought to Caina. They will spent there their sentence. The Universe have mercy on them … the others…" Alexander suddenly cut himself from speaking more._

_Jesse hid the head between the knees, covering the tears that dirtied the soft skin of his cheekbones._

_“Please Gabe, stay hidden and wait for an order. I don’t know when it will come.”_

_The boy raised his head when he felt two protective hands placing on his shoulders. His father was looking at him right in the eyes. His pupils were wide and serious, as if was going to say something that would has changed Jesse’s life forever._

_Probably, he was._

_"Jesse, whatever is going to happen, please don’t worry. Everything will be solved."_

_Alexander’s voice was quiet as he tried to calm the fourteen years old kid who was shaking in fear and in tears._

_"Dad, what’s happening?! Why we are running away from the Navy! Why they are searching us?!"_

_The grasp on Jesse’s shoulders became tighter, his father’s gaze more concerned but his voice was soft. "They aren’t looking for you, Jes, they’re looking for me." Jesse was pulled in a hug. His father cupped his head in a hand, his fingers interweaving with the soft locks._

_"I swear on the entire Universe: nothing will happen to you. Did you hear me, Jes? Nothing." And he kissed the top of Jesse’s head, pulling him closer in his hug. Then his father spoke right in his ear._

_"Men are coming here. Men we considered friends yesterday. I don’t know how all of this is gonna end, Jesse, but you gotta promise me a thing."_

_Alexander’s voice had slipped to that drawl that people considered rude but for Jesse was the sound of home. It meant the Admiral was unease._

_The father’s arms released him and Jesse had to watch him in his eyes._

_"Jesse, in the worst case possible, I won’t make the night..."_

_"Dad, no..."_

_"Jesse, listen to me, now: I want you to remember you ain’t alone in the Universe. There will always be someone ready to stand beside you and fight this war together with you. Please, don’t forget this."_

_Alexander took Jesse’s hand, leaving a small, metal transceiver in his palm: it was as big as a lighter. Jesse stared at it, scared and disoriented: it was cold on his sweated skin, the strange round mark shaped an “O” and a “W” on the front. On the top, a blue button stood, as if it waited to be pushed._

_Jesse looked again at his father, not understanding._

_Alexander kissed him again on his forehead. "When ya think you're utterly alone, when it seems the entire Universe is fightin' against you, press the button. It’ll convince you of the contrary. Now hide it, c’mon!"._

_Jesse put it in his pocket with trembling hands._

_Alexander watched him intensely, as if he wanted to print in his memory every detail of Jesse’s face._

_"You’re so courageous, Jesse."_

_In that very moment, someone knocked down the door of the captain’s cabin._

 

 

_Jesse was hold still by two enormous soldiers who used to be loyal to the McCree’s family once and now they were expressionless in front of their Admiral put on his knees and beaten up._

_The boy screamed to stop that torture on his father, but Sojiro Shimada was immovable. Or better, there was an expression of anger and delusion on his face as if he couldn’t believe that his best friend was conspiring at his back. The Council of the Elders, instead, looked at the former Admiral with pure disgust, as if he was nothing but an inferior life form._

_Hanzo and Genji didn’t dare to speak a word._

_The air of the throne room was so thick that could be cut with a blade._

_On the other hand, Alexander was a perfect piece of steel: not a shout, not even a moan of pain. His eye was black, the blood dripped from his lips, but he kept staring at the Chief with a resolute gaze._

_Sojiro’s lips were a thin line. "Why…" his voice trembled "Why one of my most trusted men was plotting a conspiracy?"._

_Alexander didn’t answered back, he just blinked. The silence made Sojiro snapped._

_"What would you have obtained with my death?" He shouted, waving his hand in rage and hitting Alexander’s face again. Jesse begged to stop._

_“The power? What kind of power want a man who has already everything? You had fame, wealth, love, respect … what else did you want, McCree?”_

_The ex Admiral breathed out and, for the first time, lowered his gaze. “Whatever accuse you are going to hurl at me, Sojiro, the boy has nothing to do with it. It’s all my fault.”_

_Jesse’s heart tightened: he had never seen his father like that, so compliant and miserable._

_"Dad, please…" He tried to sigh, but his voice was overwhelmed by the voice of one of the Elders._

_"It's up to us decide this."_

_Alexander grimaced and then he looked at Sojiro again, lifting his gaze to meet his eyes. Jesse saw nothing but clear truth in his father’s face. "You can believe whatever you want, Sojiro, I won’t be the one who control your judgment but I can assure you that none of my actions was against you."_

_"You wanted a coup!” One of the Elders shouted, making jolt the bystanders. “You formed that … rabble of criminals and you called them ‘special task force’ when that ‘Overwatch’ is nothing but a bunch of members of a conspiracy"._

_"Why do you fear it, Elder? Do you have guilty conscience?" Alexander spit with disgust._

_"Shut-"_

_"Maybe" The Elder Kurosaki began to talk, hushing the other with a wave of his hand "we should interrogate your son. He could be more willing not betraying the Confederation…"_

_Hearing this intention, Jesse gulped and almost fell on his knees: he knew what kind of interrogation used to do some people in the Orbital Navy._

_Hanzo whispered his name, but McCree was too focused on the scene before him to pay attention._

_"Jesse isn’t old enough even to join in the Navy, what kind of harm could he do?" Alexander yelled concerned, looking at Jesse._

_"If he doesn’t do any kind of harm, what do you have to be afraid of? Do you have a guilty conscience, McCree?" Kurosaki mocked him and Alexander stared at him in rage like a hungry dog._

_"You will do nothing to Jesse." Sojiro stated and Jesse could hear Hanzo and Genji sighing in relief._

_"Honestly, your Majesty" Kurosaki said "We are talking about your safety and the concord of the entire Confederation. In my opinion, nobody is too young to be a menace."_

_Jesse almost cried: Kurosaki was a monster._

_"You won’t touch my son, Kurosaki…" the ex Admiral snarled, but another fist fell on his cheek. He spat blood._

_"Alexander, you have to understand just one thing" Kurosaki commented with tone full of disgust and tease "We could even execute your entire family for the safety of the Confederation. Now, took away the boy."_

_Jesse cried: he was not a traitor, neither his father._

_And then, everything happened too fast._

_Two strong grips closed on both Jesse’s arms. He was paralyzed with fear, fat tears rolled down his soft cheeks._

_He heard the noises of a scuffle and the complaints of men._

_Hanzo and Genji screamed._

_The Council shouted his concern._

_Sojiro ordered something in the general confusion._

_Then, a loud shot of a gun and red stain on the chest of Alexander, free from the guards and few steps away from his son. The ex Admiral’s eyes were full of regret while they stare at the son._

_The time went deaf and slow as Jesse looked in disbelief at the blood widening on his father’s white uniform._

_Jesse’s mouth gaped, unable to articulate any sound._

_The boy was sure everyone around him was yelling something, but he could only stare at his father’s corpse that fell on the white floor, staining it._

_He was forced to look away after an eternity when the grip on his arms loosened and two caring hands framed his face with a gentle touch._

_The Head of the Confederation was facing him, his expression distorted by guilt and sorrow. The old man wiped the tears from Jesse’s face with a slow movement of his fingers._

_Sojiro hugged him tightly, hiding Jesse’s face in his chest, like a lovely father. Like Jesse’s father used to do._

_"I’m so sorry, Jesse. I didn't want it ended like this. But from now on, I swear I will take care of you..."_

 

\- - -

 

Jesse woke up feeling something wet and cold on his cheek. He lifted his face suddenly, ready to fight and with his guard up just to realize he had been asleep on a pool of his own saliva.

He looked at his half full glass and the empty bottle of cheap alcohol: he was lucky he hadn’t woken up in his own puke.

He reclined on the chair, putting the leg on the table and he hid his face with his fleshy arm, weighing the bottle with the mechanical one.

He was so pathetic. Only seven years before, he had been one of the most famous and respected men of the Orbital Navy. He had led the Second Battalion, as his father; he had saved planets; he had won wars.

Then all had tumbled down. He had the best reasons to kill Sojiro Shimada that night of seven years before, the Head guilty of leading Jesse in the most damned circle of the Hell with just one order. The Head of the Confederation had changed since his wife’s death. He had become weaker, more malleable.

And now Sojiro Shimada was dead. Everyone in the Confederation thought it was his fault when instead he had locked up himself in a cryostasis capsule after running away from his forbidden love again.

Every soldier in the Navy would have been at his heels and he didn’t want to think about how much his bounty amounted in that moment. Even all the bounty hunters would chase him, despite the danger he represented: he was a too appetizing prey.

He was even too afraid to leave that dirty pub on that even dirtier planet, afraid of all the people who were going to attempt to his life. Hanzo first of all.

A former Admiral reduced to garbage.

He wanted to vomit.

He screamed, throwing the bottle on the wall, crashing the glass and hearing a sudden and unmissable shout.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, McCree?!" The bartender yelled behind the counter, dropping the glass she had in hands out of fear.

"Shut yer trap, Gloria…" Jesse mumbled, not looking at her. It was a miracle he hadn’t gotten kicked out yet. He was the worst costumer by far, even if he was alone in the bar.

He wanted another whiskey.

"You must shut your trap, McCree! If you have problems, solve them without throwing bottles at the wall of my bar!" She put the glass in the cupboard behind her with force.

Jesse groaned, shivering on his chair. "My problems are too big t’be solved…" He didn’t want to think about that. He wanted everything to not have happened.

"If those problems are too big to be solved by one person, seek someone who may help you and possibly who couuld bring you out of my bar: I have to close!" She explained, putting the stopper on the last bottle left open.

Jesse was already running out of patience. "Ya know I’m all alone in the verse. I…"

Jesse, listen to me, now: I want you to remember you ain’t alone in the Universe. There will always be someone ready to stand beside you and fight this war together with you. Please, don’t forget this.

His father’s voice was just a faint echo in the back of his brain, but it became suddenly louder than a hurricane.

"I must go..."

 

\- - -

 

"Okay, one last time"

"Genji, please, this is becoming ridiculous…" Jesse was exasperated.

"You are ridiculous, Jesse! You want to reform a disbanded and illegal task force to fight against the entire Orbital Navy! And you want me to be part of it, am I right?"

"Well, if you speak with that tone, everything seems ridiculous." Jesse stated, letting himself falling on the chair. The lone light above the table in the little kitchen was bright a beacon in the darkness of the house.

"Jesse, you are drunk."

The Gunslinger couldn’t blame Genji for that statement: there still was the smell of the whiskey on his clothes. The idea, afterall, was so stupid and desperate that seemed proposed by a drunk man.

The last act of a man who had nothing to lose in the Universe. What Jesse was.

And if there was a hope – even the tiniest – Jesse would grab it.

Jesse sighed. "Listen, it’s ok if ya don’t wanna help me…"

Now he had spoken it out loud, reorganizing Overwatch seemed really ridiculous.

“Jesse, you are talking about remaking a band of … how many? Twenty people? To fight against an army of two billions of men!”

The Gunslinger stood up in rage, starting to walk around the room. “You haven’t seen what they were capable of, Genji!”

"It don’t matter, Overwatch doesn’t exist anymore, Jesse. Half of the members is dead and the other half is unattainable."

Jesse blinked, staring at the friend. "Unattainable, you say?" He smirked.

The grin on Jesse’s face was a wake-up call for Genji who widened his eyes.

"What do you know that I don’t know, Jesse?"

"How do you think I survived all these years when the biggest force in the Universe was hunting me, Genji?"

The younger Shimada leaned against the backrest, covering his face with a hand: it seemed Genji didn’t want to know what kind of connections Jesse had.

"And anyway, I’ve met valiant soldiers during these years. They would replace perfectly who isn’t in this Universe anymore…"

Genji massaged his eyelids with the fingers. "You’re too much determined. Even if I said the contrary, you wouldn’t listen to me…"

The Gunslinger picked a cigar from his pocket and lighted it, walking to the window.

"The Shimadas has led the Confederation with honor and justice. Now the Council wants the power that Shimada family detained for centuries. I won’t stay still as that scum destroys the balance of the Confederation and hurts…"

Jesse cut suddenly himself.

He could feel the fond gaze of the friend on his shoulders. "And they hurt Hanzo…"

Jesse didn’t talked and kept looking outside the window.

"Do you still love him, Jes?"

The Gunslinger bit his cigar. "I’ve never stopped, Genji…"

 

\- - -

 

"Minerva, wake up, I need your help!"

All the lights on the Alicante switched on as the female voice greeted him and welcomed him back.

_"How could I help you, Admiral McCree?"_

The man sat down in the cockpit and closed the hatch as he fastened the belt.

"Set a new route, the coordinates are 255634 spacial kilometers West From Gibraltar. Planet Volskaya. I won’t go in the cryostasis capsule this time, so choose correctly even the planets where we can stop." He ordered, resting against the seat.

He put a hand in the pocket on his chest, taking the old, little comm. He looked at it intensely: the steel was scratched, but the “O” and the “W” were still readable. The little blue button still demanded to be pushed.

_"The route is set, Admiral McCree, but your choice is … dangerous. Planet Volskaya means..."_

"I know, sweetie" Jesse commented, still gazing at the transceiver. "But nothing I’m gonna do from now on will be easy or safe..."

_"In that case, I think you should see this, Admiral McCree…"_

Jesse looked away from the comm. when Minerva opened up a light-blue hologram.

The Gunslinger gulped and he felt shivers and fear on his skin: in front of him, there was a picture of Hanzo.

The money of the bounty figured right over his head. A hell of bounty.

The former Admiral closed his eyes, defeated and exhausted, feeling the throat dry as a desert.

"My love, what have you done?"

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Stubborn men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! I'm so sorry if I'm late, but I'm studying so hard for the exams and June will be the death for me...  
> Anyway, as always I hope you like the chapter and if you find errors (there could be many errors...), tell me and I'll correct them.  
> Enjoy the reading!  
> Noah

 

 

 

Olivia Colomar had always been a smart woman, Morrison couldn’t deny it. And dangerous. She had always been dangerous too.

Jack stared at her, who was checking something on her pad, the sharp features were focused as they hadn’t been during the previous meeting.

The situation seemed tragic: the Head had been killed, the legit heir had been running away searching for a criminal who had cheated the Confederation years before and who had apparently assassinated the Head of the Confederation merely three weeks before.

And Olivia seemed far from being tensed. And Jack understood why. The Admiral of the Reliant 1701 Mera approached to the Admiral of the Reliant 1704 Nux. The woman didn’t lift her head from her pad, pretending to be focused on the anonymous screen full of nothing.

In that immense hallway, they were lonely. The huge window opened to the vacuum of the space full of stars and the pure white buildings of the base of Gibraltar, so crowded and agitated during those weeks. Everybody had good reasons for being busy and irritable.

The man stopped some steps away from the woman.

"You have something on your mind."

The woman made a sly expression, looking at Jack. "No, why should I?"

Jack snorted. "Because you are you, Olivia. I can’t believe you just stay still while this Confederation is on the edge of the meltdown."

She tapped again on her pad. It brightened with a purple light for an instant, before turning light-blue again.

"I would do nothing if I liked the idea of the Confederation falling down, wouldn’t I?"

Jack didn’t speak, but he clenched his fist: he had known Olivia for ages. Even if the bio-informatic technology made her look like a twenty-years-old girl, she still was the old vixen who would do everything for her own sake, forgetting the others.

A demon. She was a sly, purple demon.

"Would you like to see the Confederation falling down?" He asked, taking a step forward. She didn’t move, shrugging her shoulders.

"Did your transceiver transmit yesterday?" She asked out of nothing, looking at an undefined point before her.

Jack said nothing for long moments; then he put a hand in his internal pocket, the one closer to his heart, picking a small comm, as big as a lighter. On one side, there were shaped an “O” and a “W”, the letters were ruined; on the top, a little button blinked every few seconds. "So did yours … didn’t it?"

Olivia smiled slyly again, taking from her pocket the same transceiver that glowed as it hadn’t done for more than twenty years.

"What are you going to do, Sombra?" Morrison asked, using that nickname almost forgotten; only Alexander McCree used to call her in that way.

The Admiral of the Nux shrugged her shoulders. "Who knows?" She answered, leaving alone Morrison and walking down the empty hallway.

Jack hated her when she gave those indefinable replies. He clenched his fist and then shouted. "You will betray him, right?! After everything the McCrees had done for you!"

Sombra stopped, turning her head enough to see the other Admiral. She smiled again. "Who knows?" She repeated "Maybe Jesse McCree is going to be more … useful than I previously thought."

 

\- - -

 

The Spacial Station Junkertown was as big as a moon. When it had been created, it had been thought as a military base, far from Gibraltar and as a reference point for the conquest of that part of the galaxy. When the conquest was over and all the planets around were part of the Confederation, the base had been left to itself. After so many years, it had become one of the best harbor for the black market.

Criminals, bounty hunters, space pirates, rioters against the Confederation. There was no more law on that Station. Anyway, it was too risky for Jesse going outside showing his face. Or being disarmed. After what he had discovered on Tibethia, he was now afraid of his own shadow. Everyone could be an enemy or someone who wanted so desperately the price of his head.

Jesse tightened the serape around his shoulders and tried to hide as much as he could the face under the hat.

He knew he was drawing attention, but the exposed hilt of the Peacekeeper was a good reminder of his danger.

The people looked at him in his face, but when their gaze slid down on his body and met the gun, suddenly they avoid his road.

Still, Jesse did his best to take the small alleys where there were few people and those who were there usually did their own business.

The light in the streets was dazzling: there weren’t stars close enough to make the alternation of “day” and “night”, so the street illumination was switched on and off, relying on the hours.

It was 11 a.m. more or less. The Hospital of the Volunteers was surely open.

Jesse inhaled as he walked towards the big building that silhouetted to the horizon. The structure with three floors seemed more ruined than the Gunslinger remembered. Many windows was shut with wooden boards, the hole in the roof appeared bigger, probably damaged by some kind of anarchist attack. They weren’t so unusual, in a lawless orbital station.

Instead, was usual the large number of people crowding the entrance. There were few hospitals in Junkertown, everyone provided with the supplies left by the Navy many years before and financed in the recent times by some kind of criminal philanthropist. After all, they were all in the same shitty boat, there wasn’t sense in not healing those people who were their customers, in a way or another.

Many people, moved by compassion, started to work in that hospital, as nurses or doctors, asking nothing back. The medics weren't saints, but they had understood through the years where the real injustice stood. Who were the people to kill and who to save.

Jesse had experienced it on his own skin, when he had come in Junkertown injured and with Alicante almost destroyed by a fleet of corvettes of the Orbital Navy four years before. He had hobbled to the Hospital, leaving a trail of blood behind him and just one person had had the courage of taking him under his arm and heading him to the operating theater.

The same person who Jesse was looking for that moment, arrived in the Hospital.

Many nurses were running around, bringing medicines, blood bags, bad or good news to the relatives of the patients; doctors were calling each others through the doors and along the hallway, stopping the coworkers for asking for their help.

A man was standing in the middle of the hallway chatting loudly with one of his coworkers who ran quickly down to a ward, going in another operating theater for a new surgery.

Jesse was glad he didn’t wear the spurs: the sound would have drown the attention more then he wanted at the moment. He hid the gaze under the brim of the hat, approaching to the man who was still standing in the middle of the hallway, studying the medical records of an unknown patient.

The man passed a hand in the curly locks, Jesse saw the tiny drops of sweat beading the dark skin and the deep dark circles under his eyes: the Gunslinger was sure that Baptiste was carrying out one of those endless shift of twelve hours, all for the sake of the good health of the poor people of the Spacial Station.

Jesse had to talk with him where no one would have recognize him and where they could have privacy and more than ten seconds for talking.

Under the brim of the hat, Jesse’s gaze darted back and forth the hallway and the wards, noticing a little white door with a squared window on it: the storage room was full of biotics, patches, disinfectant, syringes, bottles of morphine on the shelves but there was also empty floor in the middle, enough room for two large men like them.

He just needed to take Baptiste aside without anyone seeing it.

The Gunslinger took a deep breath.

The sudden noise of crashed glass made everyone turn toward the windows: a rain of sharp fragments poured down from the frames. Everyone screamed and started to run in every direction and to shout, but no one was near enough to get injured.

Satisfied, the Gunslinger holstered the Peacekeeper hidden under his red serape and without wasting time grabbed the arm of the medic and dragged him in the storage room before he could figure out what was going on.

When Jesse closed the door of the room, he had just the time to avoid the instinctual fist Baptiste threw him.

McCree slammed to the shelves with his back, lifting the hands as an act of peace.

“Whoa there, pardner, it’s me!” Jesse took off his hat, staring at the medic.

Baptiste blinked, gaping his mouth in disbelief. On his face passed the conviction of knowing who was standing before him, the recognition of the man and the sudden thought of who was now Jesse for the Confederation. Jesse sighed within: not only a rebel and attempted murderer, now a full assassin. Baptiste’s expression hardened and the Gunslinger could see how much that man wanted to punch him in the face again.

"What do you want, McCree?"

"Ten minutes of your time, Baptiste…" Jesse pleaded, knowing he couldn’t bring such a brilliant medic away from who needed him.

"Always asking so much…" The medic shook his head, an exasperated smile painted his lips. His gaze, however, was still full of anger and concern "Do you know what they are saying about you, McCree? Tell me that nothing is true!"

Jesse swore. He knew that the information of the death of the Head had spread all across the Confederation by now, but getting the confirm was still annoying.

"I assure you, my friend: whatever you have heard about me as murderer of the Head is absolutely false. I have no proof to give ya for demonstratin' my sincerity. I know this is absurd, but you have t’believe me…"

Baptiste looked still unsure, but didn’t try to hit Jesse again. It was a step forward.

He became slightly more relaxed. "What happened?" He asked “And be quick”

Jesse let his arms fall along his sides, staring at the floor. "Somebody wanna frame me. Somebody in a high position…"

The doctor crossed his arms, thoughtful and serious. His dark gaze roamed on all Jesse’s face. "You mean … one of your former fellows Admirals?" He asked impatient, tapping his foot on the floor, almost greedy to get back to his job.

"No, somebody on a higher level … a ‘Gibraltar’ level: the Council of the Elders wanna me dead, Baptiste!"

The doctor stared at the Gunslinger in disbelief; then he lowered his head and a subtle, nervous chuckle left his mouth.

Baptiste shook his head. "You’re utterly crazy, McCree. I’m sorry, but I won’t save your sorry ass this time. Let me go or I’ll call the Orbital Navy."

McCree’s head spun and for few terrible seconds the Gunslinger tried to regain the balance and the calm. This couldn’t help him to shout. "Why dontcha believe me?!"

"Why should I, McCree?! You’re nothing but a criminal!"

The idea of recollecting new members for Overwatch was becoming harder than Jesse previously thought. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and putting the hands on Baptiste’s shoulders.

The doctor didn’t shrugged him off and the Gunslinger took it as a good sign.

"You are right, I’m a criminal and a fugitive" He started to talk, he eyes half closed and the gaze far away, even if pointed on the tip of his feet "I’ve done the most horrible things when I was an Admiral, but I still preserve honor in my body, and loyalty toward those people who deserve it." The former Admiral raised his gaze. The irises were deep and serious, his mouth a thin line. "Now, the life of those people is threatened as much as the balance of the Confederation and the Orbital Navy and those responsible are using me as an escape goat for their purposes..."

Baptiste widened his eyes in disbelief. “You’re saying that somebody is going to remove every Shimada to obtain the Throne of the Sidereal Confederation?”

Jesse nodded. “That’s why I’m searching for courageous fellas who wanna help me to solve this situation and destroy those who created it...”

Baptiste looked uncertain, as if he didn’t know what was going to happen. “What’s on your mind, McCree?”

“Have you ever heard about Overwatch?”

The silence fell on both. The Gunslinger looked at him hopeful.

Baptiste blinked and then a nervous chuckle spilled from his half closed lips. He shooked his had as if he was dealing with a madman.

“Jesse...”

“Baptiste...”

The medic got rid from the ex-Admiral's loose grip. “I cannot...”

 _“Admiral McCree”_ Minerva interrupted both. Her soft, electronic voice made the doctor turn toward Jesse’s mechanical arm which blinked with a light blue sparkle.

Jesse tapped on his arm, concerned by that suddenly call of his AI. “Tell me, Minerva. What’s up?”

The light of McCree’s arm became discontinuous as if it mimicked the modulation of the voice. _“A ship of the Orbital Navy is landed on the Spacial Station.”_

Jesse shut his eyes. He thought he had more time. Naive.

He looked at the medic, before surpassing him for going out the little storage room. The Gunslinger turned to Baptiste, serious. “Now you know everything. You choose.”

Then he left him alone.

 

\- - -

 

Outside the Hospital, the crowd was still loud. Everyone was still shocked for the shots to the glass of the windows, but nobody had understood what happened and who had had done it.

Jesse was lucky. He inhaled and tipped his head, hiding his face under the brim of the hat. After going out the storage room where he had been leaving a lost Baptiste, the former Admiral had taken a back exit and then he had headed to the biggest and most crowded square of the Spacial Station.

Hundreds and hundreds of people walked in all the directions, speaking loud strange languages from different planets. Young thieves – barely boys and girls – tried to pick money from the pocket of the naive passing travelers, smart sellers tried to trick who was so stupid to believe their flimsy promises, street artists showed their clumsy ability for gaining some coins: the perfect crowd for sneaking away unobserved.

Jesse took off his hat quickly, wearing the hood of his cape, walking fast toward the maze of alleys where the buildings were high and crumbling and the street where tight even for a single person.

The best way for running away.

But Jesse’s pursuer was capable in what he did.

But the former Admiral wasn’t going to be taken aback. He just needed to smoke. And a good plan. Or even better, a good alley where to play hide and seek with the tracker and than leaving him behind and never meet him again for at least twenty years.

Jesse was already too tired for dealing with him now. Or ever.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and walked faster. 

Jesse took another alley on the right, then on the left and then on the right again. His tracker seemed able to understand his every move, he could almost feel the tracker breathing down his neck.

McCree – as he took another street – wondered if he could outrun him.

Unlikely. The pursuer and his “informers” knew him too well to let him run somewhere so easily.

The former Admiral cursed as he realized he had took a blind alley. He closed his eyes and damned his poor knowledge of the road network of the Junkertown, his overthinking when he should be concentrate and his choice of drawing his gun and pointing it to the man who was following him when he understood he hadn’t a way to get out of that situation.

He felt like scum, the lowest form of life in the entire universe, but his hand didn’t tremble. He tried to put on a sly grin, but it felt bitter on his lips as a death sentence.

He wanted to scream, to kick himself because he promised to Universe not so many years before to never point a weapon to that man again. And yet, he was there again. On the wrong side of the gun. With the wrong man ready to take a bullet.

He inhaled. The air felt like fire in his nose and he wanted a cigar so much.

At the entrance of the alley, Hanzo stood still, his dangerous bow was tense and the arrow threatening.

"Did you make a habit of pointing your gun against a Shimada, McCree?"

Cold as steel, just as Jesse remembered.

"Missed ya too, Darlin’..."

 

 

 


End file.
